


thoughts

by mirocthound



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Bloodhound is just kind of a downer, Other, Pining, and really wants to kiss elliot, miragehound, thats it end of story go home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 03:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21237104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirocthound/pseuds/mirocthound
Summary: hey, so this is my first piece under this pseud and I just wanted to warm my apex writing skills up for the first time. i have so many awesome drabble and long term fic ideas, so hang in there. i know this one is kind of messy and i just spat it out in docs. take it or leave it lol.





	thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> hey, so this is my first piece under this pseud and I just wanted to warm my apex writing skills up for the first time. i have so many awesome drabble and long term fic ideas, so hang in there. i know this one is kind of messy and i just spat it out in docs. take it or leave it lol.

They wanted to kiss him.   
  
Language and thought were powerful things, giving them a million ways to say the millions of feelings that _he_ gave them— The thousand emotions that coiled tightly within the cage of their ribs, like a bird of prey ready to take the plunge, like a snake prepared to strike it’s unsuspecting prey— and yet, the only words that strung together in their mind whenever they decided to really analyze how _exactly_ it was that Elliot Witt made them feel, all they could come up with was this:   
  
They _really_ wanted to kiss him.   


They’ve kissed people before. When they were young and small and shy, ducking into one of the many hiding places scattered across their home world with a sweet eyed girl, clammy palms pressed together and fingers clutching tight. It had been a quick thing, nervous chapped lips barely brushing together, afraid of being caught and scolded. Their heart had been fluttering away like a fretting baby bird, and their stomach had twisted so tightly it almost felt sick.   
  
And that certainly wasn’t the only kiss they’ve shared. Despite the idea that people held about their life outside the ring, they’ve certainly shared a number of kisses. Mostly with strangers, in various places of nightlife. Hurried things, heavy with tongue and spit and desire, that usually escalated to some sort of room or apartment— and ended with them disappearing before the sun could rise.   
  
Those sorts of moments were far and few between, but they were not unfamiliar with the idea of kisses, and they were not foreign to wanting. But never before have they so heavily wanted something that was so clearly far from their grasp.   


They wanted to kiss him. They wanted to kiss him when he fumbled over words, they wanted to kiss him when he bragged endlessly and endlessly about the same list of talents, they wanted to kiss him when he gave himself bunny ears in his silly selfies with his own holo tech, they wanted to kiss him when he won- and they wanted to kiss him after defeat. They wanted to kiss him just to kiss him, to see what was the flavor of the chapstick he liked to hurriedly scrub onto his lips before they entered the ring, they wanted to taste his brand of toothpaste and they wanted to hold him tight while they did so.   
  
If one were to ask _why_, they wouldn’t be able to explain it. They could barely explain it to themself. But Hound was not in the practice of lying to anyone about things, even estranged feelings for fellow competitors within the ring… fellow competitors who sometimes worked together, but more often then not killed one another. And they especially weren't into the practice of lying to _themself_.  
  
But even if they were both equal participants inside the ring, they were anything but equal outside of it. Elliot Witt shone like the sun itself— there was not a single person in the Frontier who didn’t know who he was, and there were so many other people-- people who were much more pleasant, charismatic— less… like _them_, that he would much rather be with.   
  
People he would probably much rather kiss.   
  
And yet, they wanted to kiss him. They knew they shouldn’t, but they wanted to kiss him all the same. 


End file.
